Bring Me Back
by MarcoLover16
Summary: Marco and Dylan are back together and getting everything in their life to be perfect again. What happens when...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This will take place sort of where they already are in season 6. As of today, (November 6th). Of course, the episodes here in New York, (US) are different than in Canada. I mean, this coming Friday they will be airing "Working for The Weekend" as the newest one. So, I mean, it's obviously different, (I think?). But every episode that takes place after that may be disregarded in this story if there is an upcoming Darco one, (which I seriously seriously hope! If anyone knows any information about them in future episodes, I'd love to know!)

P.S. Most of my stories are done through Marco's eyes, but this one is mostly through Dylan's. Hope you enjoy and review!

"Okay, so you're going to cook us something tonight, yes?" asked Dylan on his way out the door.

Marco rolled his eyes, "Don't I always? Dylan, do NOT forget this again," he handed him the book that Dylan usually decided wasn't important enough to take with him to class.

"I'm leaving in like two minutes, so go, Dylan," he shooed him out.

"Alright," he leaned in to kiss his boyfriend. "Love you,"

"Love you too," he said sweetly, "Now, go!" he commanded.

"I will not be late for class!" Dylan yelled.

"Yes, you will," he laughed.

Dylan was having quite a long conversation with his teacher, ignoring the incessant vibrating of his cell phone. After a while, though, he decided he could ignore it no longer.

He excused him, assuming it was Marco, but was surprised to find it was…Marco's mother. She didn't even bother with a hello, (or ciao, in her case) but just jumped right to the point.

"Do you need a ride to the hospital?"

Of course, the only person they would both have to visit would be Marco. He refreshed his mind to the rather scary word he had heard.

"H-hospital?" he uttered helplessly.

"No, Mrs. DelRossi," he answered, "I think I'll drive over there myself,"

"You have to let me see him!" Dylan walked into the hospital waiting area to find Ellie having a screaming argument with the stubborn nurse. Unfortunately, Ellie was just as stubborn.

"Look, I'm sorry, but only family is allowed in,"

"They are practically his family! Besides, if the family gives their permission, what is the issue?" Mrs. DelRossi argued.

Although her husband didn't love the idea of another boy as "family", (meaning Dylan was more than a friend) he accepted his wife's statement without questions.

"Very well," sighed the nurse, attempting to calm further argument, "Go ahead in,"

Dylan led the way. "What, exactly, happened?" he asked Ellie quietly.

"Drunk driver or something…but the big deal is…Marco, like, was sort of," she breathed deeply, "thrown out of the car, you know?"

"Through the windshield," Mr. DelRossi added softly.

Dylan was absolutely heartbroken, though he tried to hide it. He kept trying to think of his last words to his boyfriend. "I love you," No…actually, they were, "I won't be late," "Yes, you will," But it just sounded a hell of a lot better with the "love you"s.

"Will he be okay?" Dylan choked out before the tears started.

"Pray for him," his mother pleaded. Even Ellie, who was not at all religious, agreed that it was what she would do. Dylan didn't care if Marco's parents saw him. He walked over to his bedside and held his hand tightly.

"You will be okay, baby; I know it.

About three hours had passed. Three nurses had come in to "check up" on him. Dylan had gone home for a change of clothes, knowing he'd be spending the night. Marco still hadn't woken up. The examining doctor told them to go home and relax and they'd get a call if there way any change, but no one budged.

Around three a.m., when everyone except Dylan was in restless sleep, Marco had slightly woken up. At first, he thought it was an illusion created with his tired eyes and anxious mind because as fast as the boy's eyes opened, they closed. Then, he realized, that it was real because he looked up at Dylan, confusion written in his eyes.

Dylan was so excited that the eyelids had fluttered open, he couldn't care about how stupid he might have looked.

"Marco! You're awake!" He leant down to kiss him happily, but Marco pushed him away weakly.

"What are you doing?" he whispered fearfully.

"Marco…"

"Who ARE you?" Marco shut his eyes tightly, seemingly trying to disappear.

…………………………………………………………………………………

"Maybe he hit his head harder than I thought," said the nurse, calling for the doctor to come take a look.

Dylan, as well as Ellie and the rest of the family, was told to step as far away from the patient as possible, as to not freak him out more.

"Is it a concussion or…what? I need to know what happened!" demanded Mr. DelRossi.

"With all due respect, Sir, we weren't there when it happened," replied the doctor.

Marco still hadn't spoken a word since revealing he didn't know who Dylan was. The doctor finally tried a conversation.

"Marco, son, can you tell me your mother's birthday?"

Marco shook his head, suggesting he didn't know or didn't want to speak to this man (or both).

"Please, Marco, you have to talk to the doctor," pleaded Dylan, grabbing hold of his hand again.

"Stop," Marco whispered nervously, "Go away,"

"Alright," concluded the doctor, "I think it's safe to say that the memory's been…vanished,"

A/N: please review :)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"M-maybe I should just go home," Dylan said sadly as he got up from his chair to leave.

"Dylan," Ellie whispered tearfully. "He needs you,"

"Yeah, right. He doesn't even recognize me," he answered solemnly, walking out of the room.

Marco's parents had gone home in the early morning, claiming they had serious things to do, but promised they'd be back before evening. Dylan's departure from the room left Ellie alone with Marco. She got a bit closer, but slightly kept her distance. He twisted his fingers nervously. It seemed to be his only protection to look down at his hands.

"Don't worry," she spoke softly, "I won't hurt you,"

He nodded, but continued to look slightly nervous.

"Marco, you're my best friend. You had an accident,"

"I know,"

"You remember?" she asked curiously.

"No. They told me about the accident,"

"Oh," she said softly. "Am I allowed to tell you about your life? Am I, like, permitted by the doctor to put that information on you?"

He shrugged, "Do it anyway," he pressed, "I kind of want to know,"

"Well, you're…you, obviously. I feel sort of stupid telling you this,"

He raised his eyebrows, "YOU think you feel stupid? Look at me. Please just try—try to tell me everything. I don't even remember myself,"

"I don't understand; though…like…what happened?"

He didn't answer. She felt worse for him at that moment that she ever had for anyone. It seemed that everything bad was sort of thrown at them constantly, but Marco always helped them out, no matter what. It was sad to see that, in this situation, he, (or anyone else, for that matter) could not help at all.

She didn't really know what to begin with. She started to start…well, as far to the beginning as she could.

"Do you know you're gay?"

He put his head in his hands. "Why…does nothing sound familiar?"

She frowned, "It's okay. We'll get through this. We've got a longgggg way to go,"

. …………………………………………………………………………………… .

"Hey, Paige,"

Dylan sat on his cell phone in the lobby, trying to get a hold of his sister. Finally, she had answered.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Umm…well, how's school? Okay, whatever, here's the deal: I'm in the hospital. Well, Marco is. I'm here for him, understand?"

"What happened?!"

"He got into an accident," It didn't hurt him to say those words anymore. He'd repeated them so many times in his head already.

"Oh my god," she gasped, "Is he alright?"

"Well, his body is fine, but his head and mind…not so much. Paige, he—he doesn't remember me,"

"Oh, Dylan…" She didn't really know how to respond.

"I'm so scared," he tried to remain calm for so long in front of the confused Marco, but he couldn't take the pressure anymore. "He refuses to let me near him. I understand he's confused and all, and I'm trying to respect that, but it really hurts. And what I don't understand is, they tell him he's my boyfriend and he still backs away. They say Ellie's his friend and he'll try to cooperate with her. Why is it so hard for him to accept me?"

"I don't know. I guess you just have to try and be positive, you know? There's nothing you can do except try to make him feel comfortable. It's probably terrifying for him. I mean, imagine waking up in a place you don't remember getting to, people you don't know around you that all seem to know about your life, and you can't remember a thing!"

He nodded, "Yeah, you're right,"

"Could I maybe talk to him?"

"I'll try to ask him,"

When Dylan returned to the room, he saw that Ellie was only a step away from crying.

"You alright?" he asked, concerned.

She shook her head, "What if it never comes back? What if HE never does?"

Dylan chose to ignore her question. He honestly had thought about it himself, and he didn't want to admit that it was a possibility.

"Hey, Marco," he approached him slowly, waiting for a reaction. He felt as if he were trying to pet a deer, knowing it was going to run away the closer he came.

He shook his head; once again, fearful.

"He won't hurt you, I promise," Ellie assure him. "As I said, I'm your friend. You can trust me…" she made eye contact with Dylan, "and him,"

Marco nodded his head slowly, letting Dylan come over. He wondered why Marco was particularly afraid of him.

"My sister is on the phone. She's your friend too. She wants to speak to you. She's away at college, and she can't make it here," (A/N: Think he said she a lot there? Lol. I know he sounded like a robot. Nothing I could do!)

"Talk to her," Ellie commanded.

He did as he was told, and put the phone to his ear, "Hello," he spoke shyly.

"Marco, hon, I'm Paige,"

"Hello," he repeated, waiting for more.

"Nothing?" she asked.

"Nothing," he repeated again, probably more upset than she was.

He handed the phone back to Dylan, who hung it up without a good-bye. He knew it wasn't necessary. He then took a seat again next to Marco.

"I know you don't remember me, and I'll be patient with that if you can simply trust me. Do we have a deal?"

Marco grabbed a tighter hold to the pillow he was grasping, but after a moment, nodded his head.

"It's just r-really hard. I don't want to be…to seem mean,"

"I know. Don't worry; it's hard for all of use,"

"Okay, I'll try…Dylan, right?"

"Yes, Dylan, your boyfriend," Dylan attempted.

Marco visibly shuddered at the word 'boyfriend', but said not a word against it.

"Marco!"

Marco's parents entered the room. They smiled joyously at him as though nothing was wrong. Marco, unfortunately, knew the truth. Everything was.

"Marco, you're free to leave the hospital now. There's nothing more they can keep you here for. We just need to hope for the best," said his mother. "Dylan, can we talk?"

"Sure," He followed Mrs. Del Rossi out into the hallway.

"The doctor suggests he goes home with us for now. I think anywhere he goes, there will be a trust problem, so I personally don't agree. I'm going to leave the ultimate decision with you. Would you like him to stay with us for the time being or continue with you,"

"I need him, Mrs. Del Rossi," he answered without hesitation.

"Of course, I thought that would be your answer, but I just want you to be aware he will definitely have unexpected outbursts…or some things that you may not know how to take care of. It won't be easy, Dylan. I love him as much as you do, Dylan, but it is a reality that…well, some people," she paused to breathe in deeply, "don't come back,"

"He will come back," Dylan said confidently.

"Well, okay, do you want to be the one to tell him he's going to live with you?"

"Oh my gosh, he hates me!"

She patted him on the back, "He doesn't hate you. You simply scare him…I suppose that's not too much better,"

For the first time since knowing about Marco in the hospital, he laughed. "No, I suppose it's not,"

……………………………………………………………………………

"I live with him?" Marco asked, confused.

"Yes, Marco," confirmed Ellie, "You do, and you love him,"

Ellie and Dylan were trying to convince Marco to go home with Dylan. Meanwhile, Marco felt it'd be best to stay in the hospital. They told him he couldn't. He had a choice between his parents and Dylan. At first, he chose his parents, but his excuse to change his mind was, 'There's two of them. If they wanted to hurt me, they'd have a better chance', (or something along those lines).

"Look, Marco…Dylan will take care of you. We all love you. No one is going to hurt you," assured Ellie.

Marco looked unconvinced.

"I thought you said you'd try to trust me," Dylan said, hurt.

"That was before I knew I was living with you!" Marco whispered, unhappily. He rocked back and forth on the bed, his arms hugging his knees to his chest. "Please don't make me go!"

Ellie sat down next to him on the bed. She lightly touched his shoulder, (even for her, he would allow no more) "It'll be okay, Marco. Please do this for me, if not Dylan,"

He continued to rock, but nodded. Dylan smiled slightly and sat on the other side of him.

"I won't let anything happen to you, okay? I will never hurt you,"

Surprisingly, he got a bit closer to Dylan, almost whispering in his ear, "Never say never,"

………………………………………………………………………………….

After Marco was signed out of the hospital, he drove home in the backseat of Dylan's car. Dylan suggested it, knowing he wouldn't want to be too close to him. They arrived back to the apartment they shared together and Marco followed Dylan to their door.

They walked in and Marco looked around slowly. Dylan followed his eyes, and shut the door behind them. The slam awoke Marco from his trance.

Dylan went to walk by him and Marco moved so quickly, he fell. He seemed, if possible, much more nervous than even at the hospital. Dylan's first impulse was to go over and see if he was okay, but he thought the closer he was, the worse it would make things. He decided to keep that distance, but talked to him nonetheless.

"You alright?" Dylan asked. "Hungry? Thirsty?"

"OH!" he exclaimed, surprised. "No, no…thanks, I'm okay,"

He cautiously began to sit down. He looked over at Dylan to make sure it was okay. Dylan made a hand gesture that suggested, 'Go ahead,' And Marco sat down.

After getting a soda, Dylan walked across the room to sit in the chair directly across from the couch Marco was sitting on. He smiled at him.

Marco focused his eyes somewhere else. "Well, it's…really nice here," he commented positively. Dylan assumed that was a good sign. At least he didn't hate it.

"Yeah, well, you thought so,"

"You don't?" he questioned.

"No, that's not what I meant. Yeah, I love it here,"

"I really live here?"

"I really can't believe you don't recognize it at all. Like, nothing seems familiar? I mean, do you remember anything at all? Not even the slightest little thing? Because if you do, even if you think it's insignificant or not real, please tell me,"

He nodded. "I remember…well, it is sort of stupid, but I remember…having friends. I mean, see, that's stupid because I don't even remember them. I just remember having them,"

"No, Marco, it's…it's a step,"

"Okay, it's been a really long day and I think I'm going to head to bed," stated Dylan tiredly, "Oh…" he realized, "As to your sleeping arrangement, don't worry, you don't have to sleep with me. I would never do that to you,"

"I'll sleep out here on the couch?" he asked.

"No, you can sleep in the bedroom. I'll sleep on the couch,"

"But—"

"You just had an accident. It's okay,"

"No, but it's your apartment," Marco argued. "I mean, no…it's ours,"

"I'll sleep on the couch. Good-night, Marco,"

"On second thought, could I have something to eat?"

Marco tried stalling because he really didn't want to sleep in a strange place. He was afraid to sleep at all. Last time he'd done that, this was what happened.

"Sure, you can,"

"I was wondering if you could maybe make me something…"

"Absolutely,"

He followed Dylan around the kitchen, though he made sure to stay at least two feet away at all times.

A/N: How'd you like? Please review! I had bigggg inspiration, so I updated this pretty quickly, but the next thing is finished chapter four of "Here to Stay and Gone for Good," That should be up by Saturday :)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"So, how are things going?" asked Ellie.

"Well," he said, switching the phone to his other ear, "He's still in bed. Last night, he could not sleep. He wouldn't even go to the bedroom until one and was asleep at about three,"

"Aww, I'm sure he was just a bit uncomfortable,"

"Yeah, but I understand that, first he want me no where near him, then…he refused to be alone. He would come out every five seconds to make sure I was still in the living room. I was going crazy! Thank god he's asleep,"

As soon as he had said that, he heard a crash. He sighed, "Maybe I spoke too soon,"

She laughed, "Go check,"

He walked into the bedroom to find Marco on the floor, holding a few pieces of glass.

"I'm sorry," he immediately began apologizing as soon as he saw Dylan. "I just wanted to look at it, and then I don't know…I didn't mean to break the frame…" he hurriedly picked up the pieces until Dylan calmed him down.

"Marco," he put his hands on his shoulders.

Marco shut his eyes tightly, as if he was preparing himself to be hit.

"It's okay,"

He opened his eyes, "But…I…"

"Accidents happen,"

"It's okay?" he asked, disbelieving.

Dylan laughed. "You really need to learn how to relax,"

"I'm relaxed; I promise I am,"

Dylan nodded, "Here, I'll clean it up. Do you want to talk to Ellie? You like her, right?" He didn't mean to sound bitter on the last sentence, but it was starting to get on his nerves.

Marco slowly took the phone, "You really don't need my help?"

"I'm fine," he answered automatically.

Marco took his conversation into the kitchen. "Hi,"

"Marco, hello; how are you this morning?" she asked cautiously.

"I—I broke a picture," he stuttered.

She pitied him. "I'm sure it'll be fine,"

"He said it would be. Ellie?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me about me, Dylan, high school, everything,"

She sighed, "I can tell you a bit, but everything else you need to know is up to Dylan to tell you, alright?"

"Uh-huh,"

"Well, I became your best friend in…probably ninth grade. I had a…well, a huge crush on you,"

He laughed. "With you so far,"

Ellie went on, "Well, we had a sort of relationship, until you…well, together we found out you were gay, and I fake dated you until tenth grade. I figured I would do it until you were ready to tell the truth, but you were never ready. Finally, I broke up with you, forcing you to do what had to be done. That's basically it,"

Marco was still confused, "But…Dylan?"

"Ask him,"

Dylan came into the room and saw that Marco was still on the phone. He waited patiently until he hung up.

"I'm sorry. I really don't remember," Marco said sadly.

"Don't apologize," Ellie reminded, "You can't control it,"

"No! I—I just," Marco became frustrated with himself, "I want to remember. I want to have a life. I don't want to be told about it,"

"It's all blank?" she asked sympathetically.

"Thanks for trying, Ellie…bye," he hung up.

"Come sit by me," Dylan said calmly.

No longer entirely scared of Dylan's presence, Marco did as he was asked.

"Now," Dylan said softly, running his thumb along Marco's cheek, "I want you to tell me how you feel,"

Marco tried not to feel threatened by Dylan's close proximity. He actually felt sort of comfortable; like he was taken care of. It made him spill his feelings out.

"I feel scared; like everyone knows something I don't. I feel apprehensive because I keep finding out new information that, whether I like it or not, it's true. Most of all, I feel sorry because of how I'm making everyone sad,"

Dylan figured that, since Marco seemed to be okay with the closeness, he could get slightly closer.

He cautiously put his arm around him. Marco stiffened slightly, but allowed the intrusion of his space reluctantly.

"Yes, we're sad, honey…but it's not your fault," Dylan spoke as if he were talking to a child.

"Well, I feel pressured," Marco admitted.

Dylan moved further away. "I'm sorry if I'm pressuring you. Okay, here's what we'll do. If you feel uncomfortable, you tell me. If it's okay…well, it's okay. Does that sound good?"

Marco nodded, smiling for the first time since the accident, (at least, towards Dylan) "Thank you,"

"No problem," Again, he put his arm around Marco, bringing him closer. "Is this okay?"

Truly, Marco did feel okay now. When Dylan touched him slightly, he wasn't shocked as he was earlier on. He felt a sort of…guilty happiness when Dylan casually put his arm around him. He didn't know why it made him feel wrong, but it did. The only thinks for sure, though, was he felt safe. He wasn't scared of Dylan anymore, but he couldn't figure out why a huge part of him still wished he wasn't around him.

"Dylan?" he began cautiously.

"Mhmm?" he muttered.

"Can you tell me about us, please?"

Dylan cleared his throat. He stayed quiet for a long time. He didn't know where, exactly, he should start, even what to say at all.

"Alright, you're my boyfriend and I love you," There. No unhappy things. He didn't need to know about them.

"That's all you're going to tell me? Do we fight?"

"Yes…sometimes,"

"How long have we been together?"

"Well…that's hard to…explain. We had broken up for a while,"

"Why?"

"Marco, are you hungry? How about some breakfast?"

Though he really wasn't hungry and was still interested, he recognized the subject change meant he wasn't to ask again. However, his trust in Dylan was slightly fading if he couldn't answer his question. It unnerved him.

……………………………………………………………………………….

Dylan and Marco had come to an agreement on the sleeping arrangements. Since Marco had the bed the first night, the second night they'd switch and so on. So, it was Dylan's turn in the bedroom when he heard a no knock at his door. His first thought was that Marco was right beside him and that the knock was just his imagination. However, he remembered this was the not the case after he tried to pull Marco closer. He wasn't there.

He looked at the clock beside his bed, which read 2:00 a.m., and called for him to come in. Marco opened the door gently and, since Dylan couldn't see him, turned on the light. After Dylan's eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that Marco looked completely distressed.

"I—I—I'm sorry to bother you. It's stupid, really," But from the look on his face, it definitely was nothing trivial to him. He wiped the tears from his face.

"What's wrong?" Dylan had already forgotten that he was supposed to be tired at this time of morning. "Did something happen?"

"No," he assured, "I mean, I don't think so. I—I'm not really sure if it was happening, but…now I don't remember," he said quickly.

"Come here," he patted the bed. Marco definitely didn't need to be told twice.

He let Dylan pull him into a safe hug. "I—I had this dream; a really bad dream. It seemed so real, though. I know you're probably saying it's just a dream and I shouldn't get so upset, but…you don't realize how little I know…it could have been real. I wouldn't know. I don't mean to get so…" he paused, trying and failing to pretend he wasn't crying, "upset…"

"It's okay. It scared you," he sooth, rubbing Marco's back.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" he asked hopefully.

Dylan chose to ignore any sexual thought that came to mind. "Do you trust me?"

He nodded, "At least, I trust you more than myself right now,"

Dylan smiled sympathetically, "Just lay down,"

Dylan rubbed his back, whispering that it would all be alright, until he fell asleep comfortably in his arms.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hey! I have a new chapter, everyone. I hope you all enjoy!

Dylan had been waking up early lately, like six. It was odd for him because he was generally a late sleeper. He assumed it had something to do with his boyfriend's condition. He had an anxiety when it came to leave him alone even for five minutes. Though he knew it was unlikely that anything would happen, he also felt it had been unlikely for something like this to happen to him. He was learning to never be too careful when it came to the boy in his arms. Arms, yes, he was in his arms. It felt good to be able to say that.

He propped himself up on his elbow to cautiously watch Marco sleep. Believe it or not, Dylan felt it was the most calming feeling in the world to just lay there and watch as his chest moved slowly up and down as he breathed. Marco was a very light sleeper, though. If he heard even a sneeze, the slumber would end.

Dylan, of course, knew enough that he had to be quiet. However, he couldn't help but want to say something to know. He wanted to say anything to assure him, even if he didn't feel it himself, that everything would be okay in the end. He didn't know how to do that.

He ran his hands through Marco's smooth hair. Marco slightly twitched at the movement. "It's okay," he said softly.

Marco moved in closer to Dylan's chest, showing he wanted closer contact. Dylan tightened his arm round his back. He knew that Marco was close to awaking completely, but he didn't let go.

He kissed the top of his head. "I love you," he whispered pushing his hair back.

"Mm," Marco mumbled barely coherently. He sighed. "Tired,"

"Go back to sleep," Dylan said, laughing.

"Can't. You already woke me up," he hit him playfully.

"So, want to talk about your dream?" Dylan asked. He felt bad about bringing it up, but wondered what had been enough to bring him to the awful state.

"Umm, no," he said, sitting up.

"You sure?"

"Very," he answered without hesitation.

It had only been a few days, but Dylan felt that Marco had made progress. Of course, he still remembered nothing, but he was more trusting. Although no one believed him, Dylan felt he was a little more aware.

"Okay, so, what do you want to do today?"

"Anything," Marco answered vaguely. "Maybe more sleep,"

He laughed. "No, let's get up." He pulled on his hands until he stood with him.

Dylan brought Marco to the living room. He told him to sit down and asked what he wanted for breakfast. For some reason, he felt, once again, like he was talking to a child. Marco really couldn't take care of himself anymore, which was really sad considering Marco was the smartest, most mature boy he had ever known. Now, his whole being was just gone.

"Marco,"

"Yes?" he responded.

"In case you were wondering, I'm a bad cook. I can barely put together a cheese sandwich. You always did that stuff," he laughed.

"Oh, well, I could try to learn…I mean, my memory isn't that shot…well, yes, I suppose it is…"

"Who would teach you, anyway?"

"Good point. How about we skip breakfast?" Marco suggested.

Dylan sat down next to him on the couch. "I avoided doing this because it's not pleasant, but…we do need to talk," Dylan said slowly.

"Okay," Marco replied, looking concerned. "Well, what is it?"

"You went through a lot in tenth grade with coming out,"

"Ellie told me," he interrupted.

"Not everything. Please listen,"

Marco nodded, so Dylan went on. "Well, you see, you had issues with Spinner, first of all. You'd gotten bashed and went through major catastrophes. Your homophobic parents even showed up on our first date," he laughed as he saw Marco's confused face. "Don't even ask.

"Anyway, you'd gone through so much with Spinner and the…uh…gay bashers, we'll call him, that I guess you were terrified of your parents finding out. I convinced you to tell your mother as you were in eleventh grade, I was in my freshman year at college…and she's already pretty much guessed. Since I didn't care who knew about me, I wanted to push you a little bit more out of the closet; even if it was hard for you, it needed to be done,"

"I don't see why Ellie couldn't have told me this…" Marco stated, confused.

"Anyway," Dylan pressed on as though there had been no interruption. Apparently, he was determined to get this out as quickly as possible. "You and I had been going great together…for a year. From the end of your tenth grade, till the end of your eleventh, we'd been going strong. However, at the end of eleventh, we had a bit of umm…god, this is hard."

Marco scooted closer to him. "Don't worry. This it about the break-up, isn't it? Is it the thing you wouldn't tell me?"

Dylan nodded. "Okay, well…here it goes. I screwed up big time. I was…the type of person who wasn't ready to be with you maturely. I had to be with hundreds of others…I don't know why, but in the end, you caught me with another guy,"

Marco blinked. "So, you cheated on me?" he asked bitterly.

"Please don't hate me because there's more I need to say in order for my guilt to be complete. I told you I wanted to be with other guys as well. I told you that I loved you and that it was my freedom and I was…well, free to do what I wanted with that. You agreed. You believed it was my freedom, but if I couldn't give that part of me up, you'd leave."

"So, I…left?" He put his hand down into his hands, shaking back and forth. Marco worried for a moment, but realized he was trying to remember, so he let him be.

"Yes, you did. And it's a damn good thing too. You made me change myself, like I needed to. Do you want to know about coming out to your dad?" Dylan asked, desperate for the next important stage.

"No, thanks. I think I would like to go lie back down a bit," he began to walk down the hallway. "Alone, please," he added, in case Dylan decided to follow.

When the door closed, Dylan let himself fall to the couch. "OH MY GOD!" he shouted. "I had it…the trust was there and I saw it…" he whispered. "God, it's gone again!"

Marco opened the door. Dylan wasn't sure what he was planning on doing, but he didn't walk too far out. It turned out, he came out simply to ask him a request.

"Is the shouting really all that necessary?" he asked, irritated. Yes, the trust was definitely gone. He had known they'd broken up. Dylan wondered why this came as such a blow. He wanted to ask him why he hadn't trusted him when he first woke up. He wanted to beg him, on his hands and knees, to trust him again; tell him to understand.

Instead his response was, "No, I'm sorry. I'll stop,"

Marco hung there for a moment and Dylan waited for something. "Umm…are you okay?" Dylan asked.

He shook his head. "When we left the hospital, you told me you'd never hurt me, but obviously you did…I don't…I don't know how I can stay here with you. I don't know how to tell if you're giving the truth,"

A/N: I know it wasn't too long. I hope it was worth the read, though. :) Please review.


	5. Chapter 5

Marco sat across from Dylan on the couch trying to stare him down. After every move Dylan would make, Marco's eyes would follow.

"Relax; I'm not going to jump you. We're been over this."

"Uh-huh," he nodded, though he still looked slightly unconvinced.

Dylan sighed. "Listen," Dylan took his hands. "You trust me. You do. You eventually forgave me."

"I don't know…why didn't you tell me before, though? You were obviously afraid for some reason."

"Marco, let's take a walk."

Dylan led him outside. Marco didn't ask where this walk was going; he didn't really care. He was confused. He felt a sort of hatred toward Dylan, but also felt, with recent circumstances, safer with no one else, (except perhaps Ellie).

He wanted Dylan to protect him from all the people who walked down the street. He felt as though everyone was staring at him, thinking, 'That's the boy who…'

He was glad he didn't have to ask for Dylan to protect him. He automatically put his arm tightly around his waist.

Dylan lightly kissed his cheek. "I know you're all confused right now, but you know I love you, right?"

Marco nodded, annoyed that this topic seemed to come up all the time. "Bench. Let's sit," he suggested.

"I'm not scared of you," he admitted softly. "I want to tell you something."

Dylan nodded, waiting patiently. "Well," Marco started, "it's actually kind of silly."

"Stop," Dylan demanded. "Whatever it is, I'll listen."

"Well, I feel like…well, a part of me remembers stuff about you, but I'm not sure it's my memories or what people have told me. Also, there are things in my head that are there, but the other part is sort of blocking them from me saying, 'No, don't think about that', so I don't against my will. Does that make sense?"

"Maybe you're scared to recollect them," Dylan reasoned.

"Subconsciously?" he asked, disbelieving.

"It's possible," he answered.

"But then, I remember dumb things! I remember cooking pasta!" he said, frustrated. "What good does THAT do?!"

Dylan laughed slightly, hoping not to offend him. "Come here," he gestured for Marco to lean against him. He did so, happily. Dylan played with a few of his stray hairs.

"Sweetie, like I said before, every memory counts for something." Marco rolled his eyes, irritated.

"Sure, I'll just cal my parents know, just in case they were worried, I remember making pasta one day," he sighed. "That's really great."

Dylan agreed. "Don't worry. We'll get you back. I promise."

They sat on the bench quietly. Marco chose to turn away from Dylan and look, instead, at the road. Every time a car passed, he would sigh. After ten cars whizzed by, Dylan finally decided to face the inevitable.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Marco answered. "Just annoyed. I want to drive. Really, I think I could"

"Marco, it really doesn't matter if you think you can because I'm so afraid of anything happening to you," he said honestly.

"Dylan," Marco said, suddenly serious, "If you teach me how to drive, I'll be fine."

"Obviously, that's not true because you knew how to drive and still crashed."

For a few minutes, after the outburst, everything was silent. Dylan sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Uh-huh," Marco replied coolly. "It wasn't…" Marco started.

"What?" Dylan asked.

Marco looked out with his eyes closed. "I was there. I know what happened."

Dylan looked at him, confused. "You…?"

"I remember…not the crash, but well, the cars trigger things, you know?"

"I'm just happy you remember something," Dylan smiled.

"I want to drive. I remember driving, so I should be allowed," he argued his case.

"Honey," Dylan tried to reason with him again, "The only memory you have with driving is crashing. When you get better, you can drive."

"I.Am.Fine. I'm physically fine, that is. So I don't have my memory, that's got nothing to do it!" he said angrily.

"Fine," Dylan said, "this is against my better judgment, but let's go home. We'll get in the car and drive; of course, with my instructions."

Dylan knew, as he said, that it was a dumb idea. He was doing it to appease Marco, but he knew that anyone with a brain would view this as a problem.

"Okay, so now what?" Marco asked patiently. Dylan knew he was happy he'd gotten his way.

Then…they began driving. Dylan was more nervous than ever trying to give him instructions every two seconds. Other than that, it was going pretty well.

"Umm…" Marco said nervously, "How…how…"

"You're doing fine."

"Oh my gosh," Marco said suddenly.

"What?" he asked, confused. "Like I said, you're doing fine," he said slowly.

He put his hand on Marco's knew, trying to calm him. Apparently, his gestures weren't helping.

"I need to stop," Marco whispered. He wasn't really talking to Dylan. In fact, it seemed he'd forgotten Dylan was there. "How?" he said, louder this time.

"Um, brake?" he suggested.

Marco seemed unable to stop. He pulled over quickly and Dylan had to lean over and push down the brake for him.

"What's up, Marco?" he asked.

"I don't…" his eyes filled with tears as he threw himself at Dylan. "I don't know what happened to me. I just saw…things."

"You remember the crash?" he asked, concerned.

Marco cried harder. "The car….and the windshield…it's vivid, but it's there."

Dylan held onto him tightly. "Shh," he rubbed his back. "It's alright."

He felt like he'd been saying that a lot lately.

A/N: I'm sorry if it's not what you were expecting. I tried really hard to get this chapter up. I've been slightly stressed out. Anyways, I have a new one-shot up, if anyone's interested. It should actually be up tomorrow. It's called Valentine's Day. Also, something I JUST realized, as I've been writing this story, Ellie doesn't live with them. I don't know why, but my mind completely forgot she lived with them. Sorry, I can't really throw her in now! Please review :)


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I am so sorry! I know this took forever. I've been, like, really busy. However, since I felt so bad about making you wait, I got pretty good inspiration and all. I enjoyed writing this chapter and it's pretty long, so I hope it was worth the awful wait. Please review :)

"Marco? Honey…" Dylan opened the door to his bedroom, seeing Marco laying down simply resting. "We have to go to the doctor."

He propped himself up on his elbows. "Why?

"Because," he answered, "we need to get you checked out. Come on, Marco, we made this appointment the day you left the hospital." He sighed.

He nodded. He then started to get dressed. "Now?" he asked.

Dylan walked over to lie on the bed, completely forgetting Marco's insecurities. Marco cleared his throat.

"Umm…Dylan?"

He looked up from his magazine, confused. "Oh!" he said. "You want me to leave?"

Marco nodded, uncomfortable. "I could go in the bathroom"

Dylan shook his head, "No, it's okay. Just tell me when you're ready. Oh," he remembered, "this time, I'll be driving, if that's alright with you."

Marco laughed gently. "Yes, that would be best."

Marco quietly dressed himself, trying not to think too much. He sighed. He really didn't want to go see the doctors at the hospital. He knew the questions they would ask. He also knew the first would probably be, 'Has he made any progress'. There would also probably be a hell of a lot of whispering. There always was lately because people didn't want him knowing anything, even knowing his own health would apparently be bad.

He finished getting ready and turned into the living room, seeing Dylan sitting on the chair near the door just waiting patiently for him. Marco tried to smile at him. He was making a huge effort to be the Marco Dylan knew because he knew Dylan was trying his best to make him feel comfortable.

"Let's get out of here," Dylan said taking his hand.

Marco and Dylan were seated next to each other in the waiting room simply…waiting. Dylan had never let go of Marco's hand the entire way there.

"You okay?" he asked, squeezing his hand.

He nodded. "Kinda scared," he muttered.

"I understand," said Dylan, "but you have nothing to worry about. I'm right here."

"Marco DelRossi?" called out an assistant. Dylan pulled Marco up.

"Is it okay if I go in with him?" he asked, pointing to the room.

She nodded. "Come on in, sweetheart. The doctor will be with you in a moment."

They barely had to wait a moment, for a second later, she was there.

"Marco, honey, how are you? I guess that's a stupid question for the time being, but I feel obligated to ask," she laughed.

Marco shrugged, not looking amused. "Okay," he answered vaguely.

She frowned slightly, shaking her head. "Is that all I get?" she asked.

Dylan sighed. "Come on, baby," he whispered.

Marco sighed as well, exasperated. "I don't know!" he said angrily. "I'm trying to….I don't know what, but I'm going…I am so lost. I'm letting everyone down. I feel things and then I think I imagined ever feeling them. I just…." Dylan knew at that point that he was going to cry, probably from all the stress. However, he expected Marco would try to cover it, or pretend he was fine. What he didn't expect was for Marco to throw himself into his arms.

Dylan was caught off guard. He rubbed Marco's back soothingly. "It's okay, baby," he whispered.

Dr. Diana sighed. "Marco, please look at me," she said.

Marco pulled off of Dylan's shoulder, but remained close to him. "I feel better," he told her softly.

She nodded. "Any memories? True memories?" she questioned.

"Sort of," he answered. "I remembered being in a crash. After that, though, I came home and felt like throwing up."

Once again, she nodded. "That's actually a good thing because, at least, you realize it was your memory and not just something you were told."

"Uh-huh," Marco responded, unenthusiastically. "So, why, exactly, am I here?" he asked.

"Oh my, you are impatient, hmm? Lie down, please," she ordered.

He did so gladly, but made Dylan tightly told his hand, which he definitely had no problem with.

"Sweetheart, tell me absolutely everything you remember. Close your eyes. I don't care how little. Just tell me anything."

Marco closed his eyes and thought. He was quiet for a while. Dylan gently rubbed his hand with his thumb.

Marco sighed. "Ummm…like I said, the crash," he responded.

"Well, what of it?" she asked, wanting to know more.

"Damn," he cursed, frustrated. "I don't know! I remember the moment of…just right before I blacked out. pasta," he laughed slightly, "and that's it."

"Hmm," she muttered. She turned to Dylan. "What do you think? More x-rays? I mean, the only reason I ask is it's not completely necessary and"

"If it's not necessary," Marco interrupted," then do NOT do it!" he yelled.

He, as well, turned to Dylan, and jumped down from the table. "Can we go home?" he pleaded.

Dylan pitied him. He was having that FEELING again, that annoying feeling where he'd look over and not see Marco, but a desperate child waiting for his parent to take him home.

"Can we?" he asked the doctor.

"Let me just talk to you for a moment, please." Dylan nodded.

"I'll be right back," he whispered. Marco didn't even bother to protest.

Diana led him into the hallway directly outside of the room. She leaned against the wall. "I'm going to be honest with you, Mr. Michalchuk, it's been about a month and…well, he's not making near the progress that I would have hoped. In the beginning, you were informed"

"He WILL come back," he said confidently to the doctor. "And we WILL be going."

She sighed, putting her hand to her forehead. "Very well. I just want you to be aware."

She led him back into the room to fetch Marco. "Marco, I'd like to put you on medication. It won't help your memory, I'm sorry to say, but it will make those headaches a lot less frequent and severe," she said, writing down a prescription.

"I don't need medicine. The headaches aren't that bad…"

"He's embarrassed to tell you he can't swallow pills," said Dylan.

"Oh," she gave a little laugh. "Well, we'll try to find you a liquid sweetheart. It's not a big deal."

"Just take this once every night and your headaches will fade. Alright, honey?"

He nodded, getting impatient. "Can we GO now, Dylan?" he asked.

"You're free to go," she laughed.

"So, what did you and she talk about?" Marco asked. There was a skip in his step as they walked to the car. He was happy to be out of there.

"Nothing, really," he said, closing the door.

"Ohhh…yeah, right," Marco rolled his eyes when he sat down in the car. "You're not going to tell me, hmm?"

He started the car. "Marco, she just wanted to talk about your progress."

"Dylan, just tell me!"

"She doesn't think you're doing well. She's trying to tell me that you're never getting it back!" He yelled angrily.

Marco knew Dylan hadn't wanted to yell. He didn't even want to tell Marco in the first place. He also knew Dylan was sorry for getting upset with him even if he didn't apologize out loud.

"And do you believe her?" Marco questioned, turning to Dylan who wouldn't face him.

"I'm going to bring you back, honey. Don't you worry about what she said," he smiled to emphasize his point.

……………………………………………………………………………….

"No!" Marco screamed, leaning against the kitchen sink.

"Marco, you are always the mature one. Don't start acting like a child now, baby. That's my job."

Marco closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I'll just throw it up," he had apparently decided.

Dylan laughed. "It'll make you feel better," he said with a forced patience.

"I feel fine," he argued.

"Marco, you sound like my sister with her logic," Dylan complained.

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked, never having met her in this condition.

Dylan laughed. "Don't go there right now. I don't want to turn you against your friend unless…well, I'll start doing that when you get better. Come on! It's one spoonful!"

"Easy for you to say," Marco said, and Dylan was sure he caught a knowing smirk on the boy's face. "You're not that one taking it, are you?"

"Marco, you know that show you've been watching lately that you like?" he asked, a light turning on in his head.

Marco nodded. "Well, it's on tonight…if you, you know, have your medicine…"

Marco smiled. "Hey! I can watch it myself! I don't need… Oh, wait…"

"Yeah," Dylan laughed, "You don't know what channel it's on, do you?"

Marco gulped it down incredibly fast while Dylan laughed the whole time. "Oh, jeez!" he yelled. "Water!"

Dylan grabbed the glass of water he'd had waiting for him. Marco finished it quickly. "You happy now?!" he asked.

Dylan hugged him, smiling brightly. "Very."

That night he and Marco were watching the television program that Marco had seemed to love so much. They sat the way Marco felt comfortable. They were close, but at a distance so that they weren't quite touching. There was one thing about Marco that Dylan had noticed significantly after the incident. He became so much calmer when he was paying attention to the TV. Honestly, he would lay down with a perfect stranger after he became interested in the show's plotline.

Dylan was brought out of his thoughts after hearing a laugh from next to him. He looked down at the younger boy. Considering the show was in Italian, Dylan had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he loved the way Marco was being entertained by it, so he tried to make up something that was being said on the TV in his own mind. It wasn't working quite well. What made Dylan really happy was the gentle smile on Marco's face. It showed he was content. Nothing was wrong, even though everything was lately. While he watch the TV, nothing WAS wrong.

Dylan, too, smiled. "What's happening?" he asked.

Marco looked excited that Dylan cared to know. He began to tell the story. His eyes lit up as he explained what so-and-so had done with her sister's boyfriend and…because of the speed at which Marco was talking, he could barely understand a word.

He told Marco when the show came back from the commercial break and, therefore, Marco had to discontinue his story so that he would miss none of it. For the last ten minutes of the episode, Dylan quietly played with Marco's hair.

When it ended, Dylan turned off the television, and he got up to leave the room.

"Aren't—can't you stay?" Marco asked, disappointed. Dylan smiled brightly.

"Well, if I'm invited, then of course!" He laid back down next to Marco. It had been a long day.

Marco was deep in thought. "You know," he said, after a while, "I feel so much safer around you than I did before."

Dylan smiled, trying to comfort him. "I'm so glad."

However, it seemed Marco wasn't quite finished yet. "I also want to remember myself, and the reason I get frustrated…I'm pushing myself, but it's really because of you."

Dylan jumped up immediately, shocked. "Have I been pressuring you?" he asked, alarmed.

"No, no," Marco said, laughing. "It's just…" he bit his lip. "I may not be myself, but I think I love you."

A/N: So…what did you think?


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I got a chapter up before Christmas! Hooray! I hope you all enjoy! Guess who is in this chapter! Paige! Finally, right?

"Th—that's…I mean, I've been dying to hear you say that, but you're not yourself, so are you sure that you"

"I'm still human. I know what I feel. I've been told I love you, and now," he pointed to his heart, "I feel it." His smile faded when he saw Dylan's face. "Aren't you happy?"

"Oh," Dylan came to life. "Yeah, of course, honey."

"Good," he answered. "Now, kiss me…not on the cheek like before, but like I'm no different that I was before."

The thing was, as much as Dylan wanted to, he couldn't. He didn't know what could happen! He felt as though he might be taking advantage of him.

"Marco, let's sleep," he said, leaning down to rest on the pillow. Marco rolled his eyes.

"I don't get you. I'm giving you permission to do something that you obviously _want_ to do, and you won't even do it!"

"Baby, please," he put his arm around him. "Let's just sleep."

Marco sighed, feeling rejected. "Fine."

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Marco got up early that morning at around five a.m. He took care not to wake Dylan, and walked out into the kitchen. He sat down at the table with his head held down. He was so hungry. Maybe he could…try to cook something. It couldn't really hurt.

He was actually surprised at his own abilities after he began the meal. He figured that, though he was following a recipe, a part of him kind of knew what he was doing having done it many times before the accident. He knew it was only pancakes, but he was quite proud of his accomplishment.

"Hey," Dylan said, walking into the kitchen. "You're up early…" he mumbled tiredly, eyeing the pancakes.

"Yeah, I wasn't really tired. I guess it's the Italian in me," he pointed to the table, laughing. "They can't be too bad, so eat."

"No need to tell me twice," Dylan answered, grabbing a fork and knife. He ate his food gladly with Marco sitting across from him, not eating a thing. He hesitated before his next bite.

"They're good. They aren't poisoned, are they?"

Marco laughed, shaking his head. He mouthed, "No."

"Then, what's wrong? You don't look too excited for a boy who cooked an excellent breakfast. You should be eating them!"

"Well," Marco sighed, "It's just that…nothing, it's stupid," he answered, looking down at his lap.

Dylan leaned over to raise his chin. "Let's talk." He didn't ask because he knew, in this state, Marco would only answer to commands; not requests.

Marco nodded. "Okay, you know my show?"

Dylan nodded. "The one I don't understand, yes." He wasn't quite sure where this was going.

"Well, Miranda's just all alone and afraid to get hurt, so she never dates, but she's so beautiful, and a lot of guys like her. She just doesn't take chances with love. There's Vincenzo (A/N: I love that name…) and Maria. They've been together forever and they'll stay together forever. I just…I know I'm scared of you hurting me because a part of me still feels like you're a stranger, but I don't want to turn out like Miranda! I want you to tell me you love me…because you pushed me away last night."

"Marco," Dylan said, getting up from his seat at the table to hug his insecure boyfriend. "Don't feel like that. I do love you. It's just that you're not yourself…"

"If I never come back"

"Don't say that!" Dylan interrupted, walking away from him. He paces the floor with his back turned, so Marco couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. "You will come back, Marco."

Marco went on as though he had not heard him. "I never come back…" he paused. "No. If Marco never comes back, you can have me."

Dylan knew Marco was giving up a lot of himself to say those words. He was giving all trust to him, knowing Dylan could easily break his heart…or bones.

Dylan cleared his throat. "Well, you two might just be the same person. Your mind is just taking a little vacation. It'll come back."

"Until then, if you believe I'm the same person as your Marco, tell me you love me. Please…just…tell me, so Marco feels he has a reason to come back," Marco said. He sounded so weak and desperate.

Dylan knew that Marco was trying to so hard to be the person Dylan wanted him to be, but he wasn't sure if it was good that he felt in love with him. What if Marco was just saying it to make him happy?

"I love you too," Dylan said, embracing him. What else could he have done? At a time like this, Marco needed love. It must have worked because he stopped shaking instantly.

He rested his head on Dylan's shoulder, and Dylan held him tightly. "Did you like the pancakes?" he asked, hopeful.

Dylan laughed, pulling away. "Well, of course," he answered.

Their tender moment was broken by a knock at the door. It was a quite insistent knock.

"Open up!" the knocker called. Dylan recognized the voice immediately.

"Ready to meet my sister?" he asked.

Marco nodded eagerly. "I'm praying to recognize her," he laughed. Dylan opened the door slowly, presenting Paige. She ran quickly across the room to hug him. Arco returned the hug half-heartedly.

She pulled away from him only to drag him to the couch.

"Are you okay Sit down, please. It might be good for you. Is your head bothering you? Have you been taking your medication?"

"Paige!" Dylan yelled, stopping her incessant nagging. "Paige, if he didn't have a headache already, he definitely has one now," he said, sitting down next to them on the couch.

Paige glared up at him. "I don't find you funny, Dylan," she said angrily. She let go of Marco for a second to talk to Dylan.

"I don't see," she slowly raised her voice, "how you are making a joke out of this; how it doesn't bother you!"

Dylan knew something that it was going to occur when he saw Paige. He'd been hoping Marco would get better by then. However, he'd prepared himself for it.

"Well, Paige, it does bother me. I've just had a bit more time than you to get used to it!"

"Oh, I see," Paige said, walking away from her seat on the couch. "So, you just got used to him being in this state!"

"It obviously upsets me, Paige, to see my boyfriend like"

"I'm right HERE!" Marco screamed, having had enough of their argument. "If you want to talk about me," he stood up, "just tell me to leave!" he said, slamming the door to the bedroom he and Dylan shared.

Paige and Dylan were ashamed and silent for a while. Paige with tears in her eyes, looked up at Dylan.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, blinking them away. "I'm just…I'm upset."

Dylan nodded. "It's okay. I'm going to go talk to him. Don't move, okay? He gets…nervous around new people."

"Uh-huh…I'll just wait for you to come back, then," she answered.

Dylan knocked softly at the door, calling his name softly. "Come in," he answered.

Dylan walked in, smiling slightly at him. "Paige and I…we're sorry for that. She just feels horrible for not being here when it happened, you know? She tends to feel responsible for things," he said slowly.

Marco waved his hand. "It's fine, but I was serious. Tell me to leave if you're going to fight. Even though it's not too amazing, knowing you're being talked about," he laughed.

Dylan looked at Marco's shining smile. He knew, from the first time he met him, that there was no one else in the world like him. He was so forgiving, sweet with a…slight attitude about him, funny, stubborn…god, he was stubborn, but accepting, and smart, and loving, but when he looked at him in the eyes, he saw nothing but his absolute beauty. There was no boy or girl in the world who could claim to have beauty above his because his mere personality made his beauty even more noticeable.

When Dylan saw this smile, he knew it was real. It wasn't insecure or unsure or…or fake…it was a real, true, happy smile, and it took over Dylan completely. He'd only seen one like it on Marco maybe twice in his life of knowing him.

He sat down on the edge of the bed with him and threw his arms around him without any objection. He brought him closer and closer until their lips touched in a true kiss. It was a kiss like the one Marco had been telling him to do, but it was so much more. Dylan barely had any control over his own body in this particular kiss and he knew that Marco felt the same. He didn't know how long they stayed in that position, but it could have been days and he wouldn't have cared a bit.

Finally, though, he had to pull away to take a breath, only to lean him and kiss him one more time. When they were both left sitting silently, close and touching, and looking in each others eyes, Marco smiled again; even brighter than before.

"I…" Marco said, trying to breathe. "I—I love you."

"I know, baby…I love you too. I know that you're trying and"

"No," he said, slightly frustrated, but not removing the smile. "I love you and I'm here with you…"

Dylan looked at him, confused. "What? I know you're here…I'm here too."

"Oh my god…" he said, laughing. Nothing, it seemed, could make him angry at that moment. "Dylan, my poor, stupid, dense, but loving boyfriend, I am HERE. I will always be here. I'm home."

Dylan could still not understand what he was trying to say to him. He raised an eyebrow. Marco rolled his eyes at him, leaned over to kiss his cheek, and ran out of the room. Dylan followed him cautiously.

Paige saw him immediately, and Marco ran to her excitedly, wondering what Dylan had said to him.

He hugged her so tightly, she could barely breathe, but didn't complain for a second. She was happy that he was happy to see her.

He held her at arm's length and looked in her eyes. "Well, how's Banting?" he asked, still smiling brightly.

She looked over at Dylan. "Did he…did you tell him that I"

"No…" he looked from Paige to Marco and repeated the process. His eyes widened at Marco. "You…Marco?"

"Baby!" he yelled at Dylan. "Marco's home!"

Dylan threw his arms around him tightly, not having all the answers, but happy with what he had. All he needed to hear was that he head his baby back where he belonged.

Dylan had finally had enough and simply let the tears run freely down his face. "I told them you'd come back to me."

A/N: I promised myself I'd have another chapter up by Christmas! Yay! I did it! I hope that wasn't as confusing to you all as it was to Dylan. Welcome back, Marco! It's not the end. There will be one more chapter. I hope you liked this chapter because it was a little bit difficult in my head. Please review :) And Happy Holidays! (Whatever you may celebrate, I hope you have a good one!)


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Everyone! This is to be the last chapter, I'm pretty sure. I'm actually really upset about finishing it. It's been, like, my baby. Anyways, I'm sure I've bragged on about it in some of my replies to your reviews, but I have to make a huge deal about it. I have my own laptop!! I've always shared one (sucky computer) with my parents and three little brothers. I finally have my own and it's a laptop, so it's portable and it's Christmas morning and I'm in my car on my way to Pennsylvania typing. It's a great feeling. Anyway, enough about me. Here's the chapter!

"Mr. DelRossi, I'm kind of surprised to see you so soon!" said Doctor Diana.

"Yes, well," he said, throwing his hands in the air, "here I am!"

Dylan chuckled at his enthusiasm. "I'm sure you're going to have his parents and…well, Ellie and Paige should be here soon."

"Oh, I'm sure my mother is worried about me…" Marco said sadly.

Dylan put his arm tightly around his shoulder. "I think you're going to be stuck with one of us at all times for a while. Everyone's worried."

"Alright, well, let's get to your examination now, Marco," said the doctor, gesturing for him to sit on the table.

Marco smiled up at Dylan, rolling his eyes when the doctor started poking and prodding. Dylan knew he felt it was unnecessary to have the examinations. If it were up to him, the doctors and nurses wouldn't even know about his memories coming back to him. Dylan knew, though, that it would be much worse if he didn't tell them.

"So, tell me," spoke the doctor, getting her pen and paper ready, "have you been taking your medications?"

"Dylan Michelchuk, I'm sorry to interrupt, but there are some people in the waiting room to see Marco…so, should I"

"Send them in!!" Marco shouted excitedly.

The receptionist laughed. "Doctor?"

"You heard the man! Send them in!"

After just a few minutes, Marco's parents, Ellie, and Paige invaded the examining room. Marco was surprised to see that many of his friends who he hadn't seen in a while had decided to show, including Jimmy, Spinner, and he was told that Craig was going to be calling from Vancouver. He had tried to make it there, but wasn't able to get away only for the day. Marco was so happy he had so many friends who cared to come visit him.

"Marco, my son, we came as soon as we got the call. How are you feeling?" asked his father, genuinely concerned.

"I'm okay, pa…a little overwhelmed, but that's probably normal, right?"

The doctor nodded in his direction. "But you're healthy…well, pretty much, anyways. I say, another week on the headache medicine, and you'll be good."

"I'm a miracle worker," said Paige he was betterproudly. Everyone laughed.

"Oh, I'm sure, Paige," muttered Spinner. She elbowed him in the chest, irritated.

"How do you figure?" asked Jimmy, smiling.

"Well, Marco was showing barely any signs of progression, right? I show up after, like, forever and his memory returns that day! It obviously has to do with me."

Once again, everyone laughed. Nobody bothered to say anything. Everyone had been dealing with Marco's…sickness…in a different way, and they were just happy he was better.

"Can I steal your boyfriend a minute, Marco?" asked the doctor, completely unaware of the tension she had caused.

Marco immediately turned to Dylan and quickly to his father. He stared silently at him for a while. Nobody around them spoke a word and the doctor obviously noticed she had said something not so good, but she knew better than to correct herself. She simply had Dylan follow her out of the room.

Dylan had to wonder what was going on in the room without him there, but he decided this was more important. "Yes, Doctor?" he asked as politely as he could, not showing his annoyance to her. She wasn't intentionally throwing their relationship out in the open.

"Well, I'm sorry about that, first of all." He waved off her apology, pretending it was no big deal.

"I also want to say that I'm sorry for giving you that negative impression that Marco would never pull out of this. You have to understand that, well; I really did believe it was unlikely he would. Also, I wanted to prepare you for the worst, you see?"

"Oh," Dylan hadn't really been expecting that. "Yes, I understand. I'm sure you've heard the saying 'science goes only so far, and then comes God'. I was just showing my true belief in that saying.

"I suppose that's a good theory. I just wanted you to know that I am truly happy that he did get better. I don't want you thinking that I was hoping to be right about his demise," she said. She did look thrilled to see him in her office.

"Alright, thank you, Doctor. If you'll excuse me now, I have to get back to the love of my life." It was then that he remembered what he had left Marco to deal with.

……………………………………………………………………………….

Marco really had no idea what to say to his father after Dylan had left the room. He knew his father was aware of his sexuality, but he knew it still hurt him to admit that he was going to be having relationships with other men. He had purposely left that part of him in the closet, but now he knew. What would he say? Would he ignore it and pretend it wasn't really there, like he had done when he found out about Marco's being gay?

He decided, since his father was silent, he wouldn't get his answer until he brought it up.

"Pa?" he said meekly.

His mother turned to his father in anticipation. "Well? Aren't you going to speak to him?"

"Marco….I…"

Marco smiled at his father, an odd gesture that even he wasn't expecting. Surprisingly, he smiled slightly back.

"Pa, you—you know that I try very hard, right?" he asked.

Everyone stared as he walked closer to his son at the table. "Go on," he pressed.

"And you…" he started, trying to come up with his words. "You know that if I could change myself for you, I would, but no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to date girls-trust me, I've tried-I will always be this way. I want to be better for you, but I can't be. I love Dylan and I can't…change, dad."

He felt quite proud of himself for standing up to his father in the way he did. He did it confidently, but without yelling. Although he was happy with the way he had reacted, his dad still remained unaffected. Then, his father took his hand in his own.

"I won't ask you to change, Marco," he said sincerely. It truly was the best day in Marco's life. He stood up, throwing his arms around his father.

"Thank you!" he yelled out happily.

"Love you," Mr. Del Rossi whispered.

Marco really didn't want to cry, but he knew…he had a right! It was the BEST day of his life! So, there he was, crying into his father's poor shoulder.

"Marco?" asked Dylan, coming into the room with the doctor right behind him. "Is everything…okay?" he asked, looking at everyone's faces in the room and his boyfriend crying.

"Dylan!" Marco yelled, wiping the tears from his face and jumping into Dylan's arms.

Dylan was surprised, to say the least. He tightly grabbed his back, not expecting the new weight in his arms, not to say Marco was heavy, but he was unprepared, after all. He looked around, again, at the others in the tiny room and the doctor smiled in his direction.

Marco rubbed his fingers over his entire face as if tracing every feature, almost not believing he was real.

"Kiss me, baby! Everything-" he breathed deeply, "everything's okay, Dylan. Kiss me."

Who was Dylan to refuse such a beautiful offer? He did so gladly and Paige and Ellie cheered.

Marco pulled away, laughing. He realized that he was putting quite a lot of pressure on Dylan's body, though he was strong, and jumped down, settling to lean onto his shoulder.

"Marco, what happened while I was gone?" he whispered, laughing.

"I don't even know, honestly. Guess what," he said happily.

"What?" he asked, smiling, humoring his excited boyfriend.

"I can tell you I love you," he said, smiling. Ellie laughed, though she was quite hap herself. However, Marco was acting like a drunken child. "And, I can kiss you in front of ANYBODY now!" He proved his point by pecking him on the cheek.

"Alright, everyone, how about we sign Marco out and get out of here?" asked Ellie. Marco agreed, turning out the door quickly "Whoa! What is this? I'm supposed to be your best friend! Give me a HUG, will you?" she shouted.

"Oh, why not? It looks like everybody else got one, right?!" Marco laughed, rushing to her. She hugged him happily. "Let's get out of here."

Marco led them all out into the parking lot where Jimmy and Spinner said their good-byes. His parents left directly after them with Ellie right behind.

"Jeez, you know…I don't want to go back to Banting now and leave you two"

"Trust me, we'll be fine," Dylan muttered.

"Anyway," she went on, ignoring his rude interruption. "I'm so glad you're better and that everything is better. I just…I love you. I'll miss you!"

Marco let himself be choked to death in a hug for the hundredth time that weekend. "Thanks for coming, Paige. Have a safe trip."

She waved back to her brother, got in the car, and drove off. Dylan and Marco were left all alone in the parking lot not speaking a word. They simply stared off at the departing cars, trying not to get hit by some of the fast drivers pulling out.

"Hey, want to walk home?" Marco asked.

"It's a rather long walk…" Dylan said slowly.

"Good. We have a lot to talk about," Marco said, letting himself be brought closer to Dylan. "Thank you."

"For what?" Dylan asked, surprised.

"For bringing Marco back, of course!" Marco shouted, pretending to be appalled.

"No," Dylan laughed. "Thank you for coming back," he said truthfully.


End file.
